Opening the Door
by applestoalways47
Summary: Mulder and Scully find themselves in yet another cheap motel, sleepless and thinking of each other. Will they finally breach the barriers that exist between both their adjoined rooms and their hearts? One-shot.


**The Door**

**Disclaimer:** Don't own any of the characters because Chris Carter and the Fox Network do.

They both came to the realization at the exact same moment, huddled under the scratchy covers in yet another dingy, drafty motel off some highway in the Midwest. The case had been a bust; some crackpot claimed he could levitate at will, if one considers levitation to be a guy repeatedly jumping, holding his breath in midair, and falling spectacularly on his miserable ass. She never said, "I told you so," but he could see it in her icy blue eyes, piqued with a tinge of annoyance but accustomed to pointless cross-country road trips. The annoyance and tension had faded with the setting of the sun, and with an adjoining door the only obstacle between them, Fox Mulder and Dana Scully became acutely aware of their complete and utter loneliness.

Mulder fiddled with the rabbit ears on the ancient TV, trying to get the Knicks game, but the only thing he could fin with minimal static was "When Animals Attack" on the Fox Network. He turned the volume down for some white noise to help him sleep. And like every night when he battled his insomnia, his mind wandered to Dana Scully.

She was only on the other side of the door, but she seemed worlds away. His hands ached to touch her, his eyes longed to meet hers, his lips tingled with the thought of kissing her.

But she was his partner, his best friend, and he feared that romance could ruin the wonderful relationship they had. But God, did he want her. Still, he resolved to let thoughts of her suffice; her flaming red hair, her porcelain skin, her full lips, her shapely frame. An angel of fire and ice sent from some higher being, God or alien, to aid him in his quest for justice. She had always stood by him through every crazy theory, every life-threatening scenario, every crappy meal at countless roadside diners. She was his constant, his touchstone. The Syndicate, the Bureau, even death—nothing could separate them.

Except that damn door.

Dana Scully fidgeted under the itchy duvet, attempting to get comfortable after a shower and a cup of tea, both of which had been lukewarm. Her annoyance at Mulder for dragging her out to the flyover states yet again for some ridiculous case was attempting to surface, but her unconditional love for him beat it down. Despite all of his silly antics and other-worldly beliefs, Mulder was a good man in pursuit of justice, even if that pursuit included ditching her from time to time or waking her up at 4 AM to fly to a nothing town in Wyoming without teling her the subject of the case. She loved him with all his shortcomings, and she wanted with all her soul to tell him, but that damn door intimidated her to no end.

What was she so afraid of? Rejection? Humiliation? Loss of the best friendship she had ever had? All of the above. But what she could gain would be well worth the risk—a tender lover, a connection beyond anything she had ever felt with another person, arms to holder when she feared the coming day. But that damn door stared her down, daring her to tell him. Scully had never thought an inanimate object could have such unflappable audacity. _It's a door, Dana,_ she told herself, shaking her head. She was too tired for these heavy thoughts, their weight pressing down on her eyelids. She allowed herself to focus on the present instead of the future, on the man behind that dreaded door. She thought of Mulder's square, set jaw, his hard, straight features that softened with tenderness during every personal issue she had and beside every hospital bed she found herself in. She pondered the changing colors of his hazel eyes, wavering between smooth brown and subtle green. She imagined runner her hands through his soft hair and over his toned chest, admiring his fit body. She felt herself flush, and she was sure a red face lay beneath the green spa mask she had put on as part of her pre-bed routine.

Despite the fact that she had never kissed him, she felt ghostly lips caress her own in a familiar cadence, and she knew they must be his. She woke herself from her reverie to wash off her facemask and attempted to get comfortable again in the cheap motel bed.

Mulder listened to her movements, imagining the subtle curves of her body beneath her rustling silky pajamas. That skin, those eyes, those lips…he couldn't take it anymore. He was going to walk through that door and tell her that she was his world, even if he had to break the damn thing off its hinges.

Scully lay in her bed in that quasi-state between sleep and extreme tiredness. Her thoughts of Mulder persisted, seeming incredibly lifelike. She could almost feel his hands pressing down into the mattress, his form suspended over hers, the subtle tang of his cologne. Again she felt the ephemeral touch of his lips on hers, but the feeling was so evident, so real. Her lips moved with his phantom ones, gentle caresses of lovers who knew every ridge and curve of each other's mouths. Gentle, slow, and simmering, passion brimmed from their lips.

Scully's scientific mind finally kicked in, rationalizing that she should wake herself from her fantasy. But it felt so damn good. 'Dammit, Dana, get a hold of yourself.' She forced her eyes open, but her lips continued to move. Her gaze fell upon a familiar face, his lips caressing her own, and behind him, an open door.

Mulder felt Scully's eyelashes brush his cheeks as her eyes opened, and he reluctantly lifted his lips from hers. Their eyes met as they had countless times before, but a new light was present in them.

Their ability to communicate with only their eyes allowed their love for each other to flow within their gaze, and instead of forming words, their mouths met again in passionate kisses fraught with nearly six years of built-up desire. They explored each other's bodies with tender care and attention, taking note of every gasp and moan when a finger lingered on a curve or lips latched onto a sensitive spot behind an ear.

That night as they made love for the first time, clinging to each other and writhing blissfully beneath the sheets, both knew that a new door had been opened. And when they held each other in sweet, content fatigue, the pair knew that a threshold had been crossed. However painful the past, however uncertain the future, they had each other to cling to as they continued in their quest for the truth.

**Review if you feel like it! Hope you enjoyed :)**


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